Two Halves And A Whole
by Joel182
Summary: Cenaton SLASH!    Randy and John have been together for two months...but ego is currently preventing them from enjoying their relationship. Will this continue forever, or will they finally decide on who does what?


**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN ANYTHING EXCEPT FOR THE PLOT. THANK VINNY FOR THE NAMES OKAY? :D**

**Sooooo... I couldn't help it. I just had to write this. :D Enjoy XD**

* * *

"What?" He bellowed. "You haven't had sex in two months?"

The younger brunette raked his scalp with stub fingernails as he forced back the boiling temper that slowly pulsed through his veins. His gray tinted icy blues shot right back to the shocked expression of the older blond before finally shifting rather shamefully to the left corner of the small electrical room.

It was a well known fact that Adam Copeland was not a man to discuss issues with. The older man could keep a secret or two, and knew when to speak and when to stay silent; however Adam's idea of discretion rivaled the thought process of a two year old. When news hit Copeland's ears the man found it hard to not fully express himself – both negatively and positively – resulting, consequentially, in blatantly spelling out the issue at hand.

For the latter reason, Randy Orton had opted not to speak to Adam Copeland about his problem, however teddy bear Cody Rhodes – the man who could fix all problems in the eyes of the Viper – was no longer around and so having no other alternative, Randy turned to Adam. Being the nice guy that he was (when he wasn't the usual ass), Adam gladly agreed to meet Randy in the electrical room backstage after his match was over so as to discuss his current problem. The older blond did not question the Viper despite the fact that they were locked in a room filled with hanging wires, flashing knobs and other knick-knacks, whispering as if each breath depended on it, and talking in what seemed to be code for something.

Looking at Adam, Orton was now silently wishing that he hadn't said a word.

"Would you keep quiet?" Randy snapped irritably, "Good fucking... You don't have to be so damn loud!"

Adam stared politely at Randy. "But you're shouting too." He stated matter-of-factly.

/I just wanna strangle him!/ Pinning himself to the wall of wires allowed Randy to restrain himself from full-filling his thoughts. He re-focused on the matter at hand. "Adam, look, this is already..." He scanned the small room for a word by lolling his eyes from left to right, "..._embarrassing_ enough for me. So please, let's just have more of you giving me advice and less of you expressing your shock and awe."

Copeland nodded emphatically hopefully showing a sign of complete understanding. This was, after all, the fifth time Randy had to spell out the same rule. "Alright. Let's see." With one hand posed beneath the other for support, and a curled set of now raised knuckles bracing under a bowed chin, the blond began to pace the small space. "You and John have been together for two months –"

"Three next week" Randy chimed in monotonically.

Adam ignored him. "– and you two haven't had sex with each other yet because neither of you want to be on the receiving end." He let out a low 'hmm' and then paused before resuming his two-step pace. "And you're saying that you've tried everything from drugging him, to getting him drunk, to lying, to handcuffing, to..." He paused – this time landing his blue eyes on Randy, "to threatening his life. Did I get it all?"

Randy pursed his lips and looked away momentarily. "Well..." He started. "I did sort of attempt to have him attacked and beaten down to a life-threatening pulp so that he couldn't run away or fight back...but the gang I hired bailed on me at the last minute."

Adam dropped his thinking stance. "You're desperate."

Randy glared back with a snarl. "I am not desperate alright! I'm sex on legs! I'm what everybody wants and what only a few have had!" He stressed the word 'few'. "I could have anyone I wanted with just a snap of my finger!" He snapped his fingers for emphasis. "So who's the desperate one huh?"

Adam threw up a smirk. "But you still haven't gotten into Cena's pants have you?"

The fact shot Randy off his high horse. "Yeah." He croaked defeated. "I..." He trailed off before slamming his wrestling-trunks-covered-gluts onto the ground below as his legs caved away allowing his body to submit to gravity. "I don't know what to do." He planted large hands over his raised head. "I don't know what to do anymore."

Few times – and that was stretching it – had Adam Copeland seen Randy Orton look defeated. Most of those rare occasions happened on screen, and for the remainder that happened once the cameras went off, the Rated-R Superstar was subtly shown a glimpse of human emotions that had embedded themselves deep inside of Randy Orton. With that in mind, Adam let out a long sigh before stooping down to meet Randy's level.

"Hey," He chirped softly as he gently pried away Randy's death grip to reveal the younger man's face. It nearly broke Adam's heart to see his friend donning a few tear drops that were slowly and singularly running down his chiseled face. "Come on Randy. You shouldn't be so bummed out by this."

"When did you and Chris start having sex?" Randy spoke bluntly forcing Adam's expression to hit a stop sign at full speed. "I'm sure it wasn't two months in. And who's to say it might not go on to five months and then ten months. And then a year!" Randy frowned heavily, "I can't last a fucking _year_ Edge!"

Calling the blond Edge signaled to Adam that the brunette had entered his temper zone. Treating the Viper with the same caution given to a wild, ferocious beast was the route Adam chose to take. "Randy you're over-thinking this." He pulled back quickly. "Look, I'm sure you know Cena loves you and -"

"How can anybody love anybody when they won't even let the person they're claiming to love take them?"

/Not sure./ Copeland rethought the reply. "Listen Randy, you have to see this from Cena's perspective." Randy's frown lightened to slight confusion. "He was full out straight before he got with you, so maybe this transition has been taking more of a toll on him than he cares to or wants to admit. Maybe he's not telling you that because he doesn't want you to think less of him or something." The blond cursed himself for sounding so cheesy while Randy looked more lost in thought or caught in the bracket of enlightenment. "You being so...uh...forceful all the time probably makes the whole situation even harder for him."

"So..." Randy looked back up to the blond – this time with less ferocity "what do I do? Wait forever?"

"How about you try and talk with him?"

Randy shot up an eyebrow. "Like have a sex talk or something? Isn't that the stuff you talk to shrinks about?

"No." Adam pointedly stated. "Look... just sit him down and take it slow. Don't rush him like some sex craved beast, just try and seduce him. Tell him how much you want it for the both of you and ease him into your territory."

Randy – for lack of a better term – stared dumbly at Copeland. "You want me to pull out some cheesy romance on him?"

The older blond quickly raised his eyebrows only to bring them back to their former position speedily after. "Call it what you want, but if you want to take down someone as hard shelled as John Cena then you have to start soothing him out of his fortress instead of attempting to storm the castle." The younger man gave a slight look of comprehension. "It's always better to go with the current than against it."

* * *

"You wanna have sex with Randy Orton?" A downed voice scrapped through the air of the small room. Somehow the older blond had been dragged into the backstage broom closet by John Cena after the younger man insisted he come and speak to him. "Are you kidding me?"

"I'm serious Chris." John stated affirmatively. "I've never been more serious about anything else in my life."

"God, please stop." Jericho spat revolting. "Don't make butt sex sound like a matter of life or death. It's creepy."

"Well anyway," Cena dismissed, "I'm asking you for some advice. So please spare me the insults and start spilling some of your infinite wisdom."

"Flattery will get you nowhere Cena." Jericho spoke frankly. "Least of all with me." He heaved a deep sigh as his mind wove over a few thoughts. "Allow me to summarize here. You and Randy have been together for two months -"

"Three next week." Cena interfered abruptly.

Jericho snarled silently. "– and you guys haven't consummated the relationship as yet. And to my understanding that's all because both of you want to be the dominant ones in the sexual part of your relationship."

"Actually, we both want that for the _entire _relationship."

Chris cracked a crescent smile. "Two bonafide Alpha males trying to have a loving relationship." His smile dropped coldly. "It will never work Cena. You're simply confusing your feelings with the disease known as 'first-time-homosexual'. Just quit while you're ahead."

The older blond turned to leave the constricting room only to have a strong hand latch onto his arm with no intention of letting go. Jericho turned to see the sorrowful expression planted ostentatiously onto the face of John Cena. As stretching as it was, Chris Jericho was willing to swear that the man labeled as Superman was now starting to look a lot closer to Clark Kent.

"I'm at my limit Chris." John started softly. "I've tried everything, but all he and I end up doing is butting heads." He amplified his pleading by filling his kind baby blues with water. "I love him so much. It's more than just about him being the first guy I've ever been with, and because of that I know there's no way we can last on love alone." John bit down hard on his curved lower lip before continuing on in a desperate tone. "I know for sure that Randy wants more out of our relationship. I know that he wants me inside of him." Chris scrunched his nose. "And you can help me help him realize that."

"You almost had me going there." Jericho spoke shakily. Disgust still embedded deep into his facial expression. "But you just had to add the last couple sentences."

"Jericho" Cena dropped the puppy eyes for his usual drop-dead seriousness. "I need your help. I am _begging_ _you_ for help."

After a moment of pause, Jericho pulled his arm out of Cena's pit bull clutches and turned to face the man fully. "So you want my advice huh?"

"Yes."

"Alright." The older blond leaned back on the nearby closed door. "Honestly, I can you tell you -even though by now you probably guessed it yourself - that Randy has zero interest in being taken. He doesn't do submission because quite frankly he associates that with being weak. Therefore, in order for you two to function, you have to drive that fear out of him."

"How?" John asked a bit more eagerly.

Chris took in the moment – it wasn't everyday John Cena came rushing to you and begging for your help after all – and coughed up a sly grin. "By giving him a dominant position."

"What?" Perplexity sat on Cena's face. "But I don't want-"

"Let me tell you what you want Cena" Jericho intervened hastily. "You want to screw Randy Orton, but being a newbie to all this you probably treat the whole act like a common heterosexual." When Cena's confusion remained, Jericho continued on. "In other words, you treat Randy like a girl. You try to make him boring when the man's a well known freak. You lay him on his back every time you yank on your "seductive side" and try to go all slow and steady like the tortoise in that story about fortitude." Chris stepped closer. "You whisper sweet and – worst of all – _clean_ nothingness into his ears! You move with calculation and rely on tender touches, gentle nudges and whatever crap you saw in some corny romance film to get the mood going! You are boring Cena!"

John frowned a bit. "So are you saying I should be less boring?"

"No!" Jericho snapped with light blue eyes pried wide open. "What you need to do is pounce on him! Take him by force! Fucking rape him if you have to!"

Cena gulped loudly. "Uh..." He started with dissension sitting on his face. "I don't think that would work Jericho."

"Why the hell not?" Chris asked in residual anger – quite unsure of when he had gotten so riled up.

"Well, what if Randy starts to fight back?" His uncertain tone grew a bit bolder by the second. "What if he gets mad and hates me for it?"

"Then let him." A look of shock bombed on Cena's face. "Let him scratch away. Let him scream for help. Let him beg." The older man drew on a stoic expression. "That's how you drive the love of submission into someone like Randy Orton."

* * *

Two months three days ten hours and six minutes. That was the entirety of John Cena's and Randy Orton's abstinence from one another and equally the time they spent in their current relationship with each other. Monday Night Raw had ended a good hour ago and now both men sat in their shared hotel room busying themselves in different corners. Randy sat on the bed fiddling with himself (clad in a loose shirt and extra small boxers) in an effort to find the best pose that would scream – no pun intended – 'you want some come get some' the moment John Cena laid eyes upon his mostly exposed chiseled frame. John on the other hand was busy staring at the bath room mirror in an effort to try and hone the meanest expression he could muster. It had to shout 'I'm gonna do ya bitch and you're gonna like it' or else plan take-Randy-Orton-tonight was bound for failure.

After a painfully quiet thirty minutes, John finally locked down his expression. It was similar to the kind he gave when talking seriously about the Nexus –mean and determined. Once the bathroom door opened, John's eyes had more to feast on than he had mentally prepared himself for. Unbeknown to the older man, Randy had finally decided to stop with the half-strip-tease attempt and go full blown naked – with his back slightly propped up against the headboard, one leg drawn upwards to bend the knee, one arm bent to support his upper body and the other arm laid warily across his abdomen.

"Randy." John croaked. His uncertainty riddled on his expression.

"John." Randy spoke with a false air of inviting confidence. In all truth, the younger man had not yet finished deciding on how to look, but having John exiting the bathroom sped him to draw upon the most skimmed of all ideas – nudity. "Why don't you come over here," /And let me fuck you/ "and have a glass of wine with me."

Out of his ass is most likely where Randy had pulled the bottle of red wine and two wine glasses as he immediately sat up straight and poured himself and his boyfriend a glass. The sheer stupidity of a man offering a glass of wine to another man while clothed in nothing but his own skin seemed – in Randy's mind at the moment – to be at the apex of all awkward and senseless acts.

John etched closer to Randy – trying to keep a straight face while clouded by the utter misdirection of having his naked boyfriend offering wine instead of his usual main course of sex – and sat down rather discomfited onto the bare side of the bed. His eyes had yet to leave Randy's glorious body, but broke away to look at the man's face when the glass of wine came into full view.

"So what's the occasion?" Cena asked as coolly as he could – keeping in mind that a naked Randy Orton was literally a hair's length away. He drank a bit to wash down whatever else he felt like saying that would certainly have killed his act.

Noting that John was surprisingly calm, Randy –not wanting to be any less than top notch – dropped his original nervousness for a more methodical and in-control performance. "Ah nothing really." He trailed the rim of his glass with the tip of an index finger. John's baby blues glanced down at it. "I just felt like having a toast to the end of our two month relationship."

"The end?" Cena spat shockingly.

"Yeah." Randy flashed his eyes upwards to Cena. He did not expect to see distraught confusion on the older man's face. "You know..." He left the sentence open but Cena did not take the bait. "Next week is three months."

"Oh." Relief sat on his voice. "I thought...wow." He shook his head slightly and pushed up a smile. "Yeah, a toast to the end of two months then." John slid his glass over to Randy's. His eyes locking onto those of the Viper's. "And the start of many more."

It wasn't the wine that had gotten to his head. It was the situation. For the first time in two months – and quite possibly much longer than that – Randy Orton felt completely drawn to another man. It wasn't as though the young brunette never felt the sting of attraction before, however this was the first time he had ever felt the heat of desire. Assuredly, it was not the normal desire to possess. Rather, as Randy's gray-blue eyes stared hopelessly into the sea blues of John Cena, the brunette felt the sudden desire to be possessed. Stretching as it might be, Randy Orton wanted to be taken.

The clinking sound of glasses colliding brought Randy out of his daze to meet the sight of John Cena downing on the remainder of his wine. The brunette dropped his eyes to the glass of wine still sitting in the clasp of his two forefront fingers. Thanks to the light – dimmed by Randy to add some mood to the situation – Orton had no trouble spotting his reflection swimming inside the bowels of the tasty red liquid. He suddenly felt his stomach knot. And a ball form in the back of his throat.

"John" He mumbled lowly – loudly enough for Cena's supersonic hearing but quietly enough to ensure that only he and the blond heard what was being said. The older man stared at Randy a bit sadly. "Do you love me?"

After getting over the original unexpectedness, the blond found his voice. "Yes I do." He leaned closer to Randy's bowed head, and - with a coaxing hand planted reassuringly on Orton's cheek -brought the man's eyes to his. "Very very much."

"Do you want to make this work?" Once again, his tone was soft and lonely. Much like his expression.

"Yes. I do Randy. I do want to make this work." John felt himself getting frantic out of a desperate need to tear Randy out of the vacuum of depression he was suddenly sucked into. "I'll do anything to make this work." Pride was going to have to take a walk, and so was Chris Jericho's advice.

The younger man remained silent momentarily. "Then..." John hitched on his own breath. "Please take me." To say that Cena's expression stood on the term 'jaw-dropped' with authority was putting the expression mildly. Randy planted a shaky hand onto John's shoulder and quickly dropped his head down onto the man's clothed chest. "Please make me yours."

Inadvertently – and even despite hearing the blatant pain in his lover's voice – John Cena smiled.

* * *

"Why are we here again?" His monotonic voice scraped the depths of Cena's ears. "I gave you my advice already."

"I know I know. And I want to first thank you for that advice." Cena smiled brightly. "But somehow, I didn't have to go that far."

Chris scoffed blatantly. "And you figured the broom closet was the best place to tell me that?" John shrugged wordlessly. "Well, let me give you some free advice Cena." Chris smirked devilishly. "Make sure to keep your freak on a leash."

* * *

"_Cena fucked you_?" Once more, Copeland's over-exaggerating expressions lived up to their hype. "Holy crap! Did he rape you or something?"

"No man! What the hell is wrong with you?" Randy shook his head slightly. "I asked for it. Ok? He didn't force me or anything, I just..." He searched the wiring for answers. They were back in the electrical room. "Did you ever get a craving for something?"

"Uh..." Adam spoke as he thought, "Yeah. I guess. I mean just a few weeks ago I couldn't stop eating salty stuff."

"Yeah." Randy smiled and nodded reverently. "Just like that, I got this sudden urge you know. I felt myself being pulled towards him and I just suddenly craved him." Randy frowned a bit in thought before pulling apart his knitted brows. "It wasn't like the other times when I had to have him and quite honestly, now that I think about it, I really wanted to do John just so that I could say that I screwed John Cena." His expression hardened a bit in inner disapproval. "I just wanted some measly bragging rights after all."

Copeland grinned a bit heartily to his friend. "I guess you didn't need my how-to-be-romantic advice then."

Randy threw a 'hmph' and then a small smile to Adam Copeland. "Nah. I'll leave that to Cena. As for me, I'll just remain my old sweet self." His smile brightened.

"Yeah. But try to remember that his innocence might not be able to take too much exposure to your devilish side."

"I'll try." He thought momentarily. "So let me ask you, since you're Mr. Roses and Music, then Jericho must be Mr. Kinky right?" Adam nodded his response. Randy continued. "So then you guys must have had the same problems like I did right?" Copeland nodded again. "So then... who ended up being on top?"

Copeland struck out and landed a playful punch on his friend's shoulder. "Nosy bastard." He let out a short laugh. "As if I'd tell you that."


End file.
